


you're stupid baby when you're sane

by grassthatchedHut



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grassthatchedHut/pseuds/grassthatchedHut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd wanted so badly to hit her again, and it'd taken every ounce of your control to put her down. But you did, because you couldn't stand to be that close to her for another second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're stupid baby when you're sane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [runabout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runabout/gifts).



“Don't get the wrong idea, Serket,” you say harshly. “It's not like I hate you or anything.” But it takes a real effort to uncurl your fingers from the fabric of her shirtfront and step back.

She rolls her eyes. “What _ever_ , Megido. It's not like I want you to!”

Briefly you consider leaving the dream bubble and moving on. You could catch up to Sollux quickly enough; it's been all of three days since he got fed up with Vriska's shitty attitude and went on ahead. He's aggravating sometimes too, in his own way, but he's never made your palms fucking itch with the sheer desire to haul off and hit him. He doesn't make you grit your teeth and exhale slow and measured and try not to shriek. 

And he's never made you give into the urge towards anger and physically slam him into a temple wall after he's taken his ribbing one step too far.

It wasn't even a really insulting jibe, either! But you were hottiredstickysweatyhungry (not that any of you, strictly speaking, need to eat—but sometimes your thinkpan still sends the impulse shooting down your nerves when you're stressed, makes your digestion sac clench and gurgle and let's face it low blood sugar always did make you a little grouchy), you were still damply muddy to the knees from when she'd shoved you into an unexpectedly deep puddle, you were frustrated that you'd hit yet another dead end. You can't be blamed for reacting when she laughed and said, “For the Maid of Time you sure waste a lot of it!”

You'd bunched your fist in her shirt and swung her hard, so hard that the knock of her horns against the stone wall had echoed through the chamber and she'd bitten her lip on impact.

Vriska licked away the smear of blue and smirked. “Flirting?” she'd asked. “If you want me you should stop being such a huge baby and tell me!”

And you'd wanted so badly to hit her again, and it'd taken every ounce of your control to put her down. But you did, because you couldn't stand to be that close to her for another second. She's been coming on to you pitch for days, insinuating little comments and lascivious grins that make you want to knock her fangs out (and you might have done it already if not for Tavros). 

You wonder again why you bothered to team up with her. Oh, right—because she promised adventure, treasure, a way to help your friends. And even though you'd said you'd wanted time off, that everything was too heavy, that you didn't want to be part of this battle anymore—well, the truth is that if you had some way you could still contribute, if you could reach out and save your friends, you still would.

Besides which, you felt sorry for Tavros, following her around with those maps, waiting around outside crumbling temples and ruins of palaces.

So you promised to help her search for the cherub—or rather, to make a big show of it. You were interested in some of the ruins she was exploring, and there was the possibility of finding something cool along the way (artifacts, treasure—dying and going God Tier has changed you but it hasn't obliterated your interests).

That first night, when you scooped up a handful of maps and absconded to a sand dune a few hundred meters away to examine them on your own, Tavros had followed you. 

“Are you really okay going with her?” you'd asked.

“She's a lot better now,” he said. “If you, hang around a while, you'll see.”

“Better” wasn't the word you'd have picked. If anything, Tavros was the one who was “better,” more assertive, more willing to stand up for himself. But you noticed that she did back down sometimes. (Except when it came to you, of course. Then she was the same bluh bluh huge bitch as ever, bluffing and snapping and desperate for someone to hate her as much as she hates the world, and Tavros and Sollux would walk away while you two squabbled it out.)

“Come on!” she yells. “I'm gonna leave you behind if you don't move it.” She's been walking while you've been thinking, and you take to wings and flutter to catch up. 

Vriska stops in front of an altar and starts throwing golden idols into her knapsack. “You're so slow, I don't know why I brought you in here.”

You glare at the altar and pray something is booby-trapped to blow her up. Your luck is not that good, though, or hers is just too good. Nothing happens.

“We're looking for weapons, not something to show off in your hive,” you point out. 

“Megido, do you know how many fucks I give? None of the fucks. Noooooooone of them. Help me carry some of this.”

You would really like to kill her, but you're fairly sure that would be counterproductive.

Then again, it might make a big enough scene to draw Lord English's attention. He's destroyed the last three dream bubbles you've passed through, but he hasn't found this one yet, and you're starting to wonder if the trail's gone cold. This dead-end bubble needs to break so that you can fill in the maps.

Of course, you're hoping that you can find some weapons before that happens. Sure, you've got powers, but that doesn't mean you don't like the security of something solid and heavy in your hand. There's comfort in a tangible weapon.

You keep spiraling through tomblike chambers, tuning out Vriska's running commentary, eyes peeled. You're the first one to spot the massive six-armed statue, a sword in every hand. It's decked in ropes of garnets. The bangles on its slender marble arms are golden; its jet eyes flash when the flicker of your lamp hits it.

You jab an elbow hard into her ribs. “Look!”

“Ow, hey, watch it—“ But then she sees where you're looking, takes in the wicked curve of the blades, and her eyes light up. Before you can hold her back she's practically hanging off one of the idol's arms, trying to wrench a sword out of its grasp.

You hear the scraping noises before she does and dart forward, grabbing her by the hair and yanking hard. She spins away from the statue and crashes into you, and you stumble hard. She lands hard on top of you, making you wince as the air vacates your respiratory bellows.

You are suddenly very conscious of her rumble sacs, which are now employed in smothering you. 

“Serket, get off!” you yell, muffled by her body. The statue creaks threateningly above you two. Vriska's attempt at the sword has wrenched it loose from its base, and it's too top-heavy to stay upright.

Vriska's loathsome, but she's not stupid. She grips your biceps hard enough to leave bruises and wrenches, rolling you both out of the way just before the statue topples to the floor where you'd been only seconds before. You tumble over each other as the stones beneath you crack and dust clouds the air.

You pull yourself up to sitting, shove your sleeves up. Bruises are already blooming burgundy on your arms and your battered ribs ache.

Vriska, beneath you, slides her hands around your waist.

“Comfy up there, Megido?” she asks, and bucks her hips. You slam your fist into the floor next to her face, and remember the way her body had broken under your metal hands once upon a time. 

Vriska growls low in her throat.

“You idiot,” you say hoarsely, “you almost got us both crushed.”

“You didn't have to pull me down,” she points out.

And she's right, you didn't, but you didn't want to see her die there.

God, you hate her. You've hated her for sweeps, really, and in hindsight you should have expected this. But you have abruptly realized that you can't actually imagine a future in which you don't despise Vriska Serket with every fiber of your being.

When you kiss her it is all teeth and spite and nothing has ever been so satisfying.


End file.
